Crossover
by Dr. Doitsu
Summary: Gerita AU with Feliciano Vargas as a deceased Italian who haunts the house that recently came into the possession of the German brothers Ludwig and Gilbert in an adorable sort of way. Collaboration fic with AmberCanWrite for the first two chapters. Will be continued.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is a collaboration fanfic with the amazing AmberCanWrite! **

**Gerita! Ghost AU! With Feliciano Vargas as the adorable little Italian ghost, Gilbert as a ****phoney**** Medium who claims to be able to contact spirits, Ludwig as a dog loving nerd and you guys as the readers!**

**I really hope you enjoy the fic we wrote, and that you love it just as much as it stressed us out to keep up with writing it.**

**Please Rate and Review, it would be great to hear what you guys think about Amber's's amazing writing and the bits that I did too.**

**(Rating subject to change. T for now )**

**A/N (Amber's note)**

_**"Thank you very much for reading! We appreciate your time and hope you enjoy reading our fanfic. Please leave a review when you finish, we'd be very glad to know what you think of our writing~"**_

**Well, Enjoy~!**

"Bruder..." Ludwig groaned, the second syllable of the word being dragged out to emphasise his annoyance. "Remind me why I have to go to work with you today?"  
Gilbert looked over at him, still not releasing his hold on the younger German's wrist as he led him towards his van. "You wanted to buy a dog, right West? Well for that you need money and to get money, you need a job." The older of the two explained, grinning as he pushed his brother into the van and followed behind him. Sighing, Ludwig made his way over to the seats and lifted a box of his brother's props, putting it down on the floor to make space for himself to sit before resting on the worn fabric of the seat.  
Gilbert got into the driver's seat, turning the key in an attempt to start the engine. Nothing happened at first, but after a few moments the familiar revving of the old van started, signalling that the vehicle was ready to be driven. Grinning his usual obnoxious grin, Gilbert began to drive.  
The two soon arrived at their destination, and Ludwig climbed out of the van in order to get a better look at it. An old house, left to Gilbert and Ludwig by an old relative that neither brother had heard of. After some research, it was proven that the relative was a cousin of their grandfather, and that information was satisfying enough for the two to cease their prying into the woman's identity. There hadn't been much. Just this large but rundown house and a small amount of money in a currency that either of the brothers had recognised. Ludwig hadn't shown any interest in either of the inheritance gifts, allowing Gilbert to do as he pleased with them. As the blond examined the house, he was taken aback by its imposing size. The windows were dark with grime, their thick layers of filth denying any passerby the leisure of looking inside of the house. Dark lace curtains were barely visible from the outside of the house, but Ludwig's eyesight was far from poor and as a result, he could just make out the dark fabric covering the already dark windows, preventing light from entering the room. The roof, bricks, door and even window frames of the house were dark, and the overgrown grass covering the path that lead up it were a pale yellow, clearly dried out by the sun.  
Nobody had watered them in a while, it seemed.  
There was a gap between the blades of grass, one that lead up to the house and seemed to have been caused by someone walking through the mess of foliage rather than by being cut out or formed naturally.  
"She didn't live here." Gilbert stated, a hand on Ludwig's shoulder. It didn't make the blond jump, but he certainly was startled. The albino continued to speak, a box tucked under his arm while the other arm draped itself over Ludwig's shoulders. "Great-aunt whatever her name was, she lived up in Bonn, I think. Owned the place but never set foot inside. Not even once." Gilbert muttered, looking at the house and turning his head slightly to be able to take in the whole sight.  
Ludwig shrugged him off, heading up the path and towards the house. He turned the handle and opened the door, frowning as his brother caught up to him. "You left the door unlocked? I know that you're irresponsible but this is taking the cake, Gilbert!" Ludwig chastised, entering and looking around. "It may not be very useful or attractive but you still own this house and you should take care of it!"  
Gilbert nodded, following him inside and unloading his stuff onto one of the tables, emptying the box and sorting through the contents. "Oh, Sorry, West I'll be more careful." He chuckled apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck and going back to the sorting. "Hey, could you bring the other boxes in? We need to sort this stuff out for tonight's show."  
Ludwig just nodded, exiting the house and leaving Gilbert alone. '...I know I locked the door...' He thought, sighing. 'I definitely did.'  
Ludwig brought the other boxes in, and after an hour or two, they had packed out the necessary props for Gilbert's job. Their first customer arrived at 7PM, a young man. He knocked on the door and was met by Ludwig, who explained the upcoming procedure and took his payment. The man looked at him gratefully and went downstairs. The basement was lit by candles, a round table in the centre of the room and sat at the table was Gilbert. He had his eyes closed, palms resting on the cool surface of the wooden table. Whithout looking up, he greeted the man and instructed him to take a seat. It was then that Gilbert lifted his head and looked at his first customer of the night. Young. Male. IKEA uniform. "Somebody close to you has died." Gilbert stated, looking at his grieving customer. It didn't take a lot to figure out that someone that he loved was dead. After all, people visited mediums for the sole purpose of contacting those that were no longer living. Gilbert Beilschmidt was the best medium around. He might not really be able to contact the dead, but he sure as hell was charismatic enough to wow his customers with repeated lines about the death of a loved one and a few improvised messages from whoever the dead may be. Sure, this was basically a scam, but his heart was in the right place. His job as a medium, not only did it pay well, it gave people hope that there was actually a afterlife. It gave people hope and it gave Gilbert money. It was a win-win situation for everyone, except of course for the poor geezers that had passed away.  
Nodding at Gilbert's statement, the man nodded. "Ja. My wife, how did you know?" He asked, his blue eyes narrowed. Gilbert just smiled, looking the man in the eye. "She told me. She's happy that she can say goodbye to you one last time."  
His customer frowned, looking at Gilbert with a terrifying expression. "My wife was a man." He explained. At that odd statement, Gilbert paused, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, it's hard to distinguish the uh, the gender of spirits..." He chuckled. "Anyway, your wife is glad that he can say goodbye to you..." The albino glanced at the name tag on his ikea uniform. "...Berwald. Ja he misses you a lot but he's glad that you're ok." Gilbert assured.

The white-haired man continued to scan the one who was sat in front of him. 'Hm… There are tiny hairs on his jacket…'  
"Do you happen to have a pet, Berwald?"

"M'm," He simply hummed in agreement. " A'dog. D'd he tell you that, too?"

Gilbert nodded, holding back a smirk. "Of course. Your wife misses the dog as well." He then placed his forefingers on both of his temples, mumbling meaningless syllables to himself.  
"Your wife demands to be told about the dog's welfare."

"Hanat'mgo is doin' great. She an'the kids miss Tino a'lot," The man sitting across from him said, his stern expression amending to one of gloom.

'Tino, huh…'  
After another minute or two were mumbled away, Gilbert opened his eyes. "Tino is glad to know that everyone is safe and doing well. He misses you a lot and wants you to know he's having a lot of fun up there, in heaven. He loves you all very, very much, and wishes you a long and happy life. Also, Tino doesn't want you to cry or mourn his death- he wants you to be happy and move on with your life. He wants his memory to bring you joy, not sorrow. Please, when you think about him, do not think of his death. Think of how he used to smile when he was still among the living. That is how he'd like to be remembered."  
Gilbert smiled. This approach always works.

The costumer turned away, a hand over the glasses he was wearing, and he breathed in deeply. "…Tack så mycket, Herr Beilschmidt."

"U-Uh… Ja, sure, I guess…" Gilbert replied. Receiving a frown from the man in front of him, Gilbert flinched. "I-I-Is something wrong…?"

"D'd he say an'th'ng else…?"

The albino sighed, his fingers back against his temples. "…No. I'm afraid he left. He probably has people to watch over from up there. You. Your children. I assume you better be off…"

The man nodded, standing up. "Thank'you, Soothsayer Gil. I'll take m'leave," he informed, nodding at the ostensible medium and walking out of the house.

The younger of the Germans shook his head after he closed the door behind the costumer. He walked downstairs. "And you truly believe that these lies you tell others make a worthy 'job'?" Ludwig asked, frowning at his brother.

"Don't worry, west! What they don't know can't hurt them right?~" the albino declared, followed by his well-known, peeving laughter. "Kesesesese! We're gonna make so much money today!"

His eyebrow flinching, Ludwig let out a deep sigh of weariness. "Mein Gott…"

The doorbell rang. "7:30's naïve dummkopfs are here," he added and sighed.

"Bring them in. I feel the spirit of their loved one calling to me!" The other German cackled.

_'__Soothsayer Gil… Can you hear me…?'_

Gilbert's eyes widened. "West? Did you say something…?" he inquired, but his brother was already upstairs, tending to the new customers.

_'__Soothsayer Gil… I know you can hear me… You're a medium, aren't you…?'_

"W-WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Gilbert yelled, aiming a candle at the room's ceiling. "S-Show yourself, you ghostlike phony!"

_'__I'm no phony, Soothsayer Gil… I'm a real ghost! ...And my loved ones are here to see me!~'_

"LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

_'__I know you can, Soothsayer Gil…I want to talk to them… Can you make them see me…?'_

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" Gilbert shouted at nothing in particular, pressing both of his hands to his ears and dropping the candle to the floor by doing so. What was going on?! Ghosts don't exist, do they? Was he going mad?!  
Gilbert lay on the floor in an embryonic posture, sucking on his thumb.

"So, is this the butter-licking fucker you wanted me to meet?!" an old man's voice was heard.

"Come on, Lovi, you'll have fun! Besides, you always go on and on about your deceased brother, despite how long ago he had died. Perhaps this medium will manage to let you meet him again!" another voice, much younger, joined the other's, and soon a limping elderly man supported by a walking can and his cheery nurse assistant appeared at the bottom of the stairs, right in front of the panicking Gilbert.  
"I TOLD YOU TO CALL ME MR. VARGAS, YOU TOMATO-SUCKING-… Che diavolo?!"

"Go away, demon! Get the fuck outta my house! You're not supposed to exist!" Gilbert screamed, still trembling in his turmoil of terrifying bafflement.

The old man groaned loudly. "Uh, hello?! We're standing right here and waiting for you, fortune-freak!"

Gilbert sat up immediately. He hadn't noticed the two walking in at all. Had they seen him curled up like that on the floor…? How long had they been watching him?  
H-How unawesome…  
All these questions didn't really matter right now- Gilbert had money to make! ...And people to gladden.  
"Yes, indeed, I am the awesome Soothsayer Gil! H-How may I be of service…?" he announced, gesturing to the wooden piece of furnishing with an awkward smile.  
"Hang on a sec …Antonio?!"

The senior squinted at his nurse. "A fraud. You took me all this fucking way to see a fraud."

"Lovi, I'm sure he knows what he's doing—"Antonio began saying, but turned around when he heard his name being called. "Gilb-"

Lovino poked his nurse's forehead with his cane before the other could complete his sentence. "Why won't your little Spanish brain understand, Antonio?! MR. VARGAS! Call me Mr. Vargas! I'm not one of your shitty amigos! Don't give me nicknames!"

"But Lovi—"

"MISTER VARGAS!"

Antonio groaned. "Lovino here wants to talk to his younger brother who died fifty years ago. Could you make that happen, Gil? Please?~"

"Porca misera, Antonio!""

_'__See? I told you they wanted to see me!~…'_

"Shut it, phony ghost."

_'__But I've already told you I'm a real ghost! Why won't you believe me…?'_

"Because ghosts don't exist!" he yelled, looking at the ceiling again.

Lovino leaned closer to his companion. "He's a lunatic."

"Lovino, I know him, he isn't insane. Do you want to talk to your brother or not?!" the Spaniard whispered angrily back.

"Well, si, but—"

"That's the only way to do that. So either you wait patiently for the man to pull himself together, or we can go back to the nursing home."

The old man blew his nose, but didn't add another word. The two sat across from the white-haired man, watching him with curiosity blended with concern.

A couple of minutes of ceiling-shouting later, Gilbert finally took his seat. "Is your deceased relative, by any chance, named Feliciano Vargas?"

Both of the customers wore expressions of astonishment.

Gilbert didn't know if he should feel proud or horrified. He met a real ghost. A real ghost had communicated with him.  
You know what!? Screw this! Communicating with real ghosts! Awesome!  
"Well, your relative told me he followed you here, and will be using me as the bridge between our life and the afterlife!" the albino said, excitement lingering in his tone.

"Isn't that what a medium normally does…?"

"Ja! Ja it is!~"

'_Soothsayer Gilbert._..' the albino looked up, listening to the voice. 'Please let me talk to my brother! Tell him that I miss him~!'  
Gilbert winced, looking around before glancing back at his two customers. He cleared his throat and held his hands out for them to take. Antonio complied happily, placing his hand in Gilbert's paler one. However it took a lot of prodding from the nurse before Lovino held onto the medium's hand, and once everyone was connected by the act of hand-holding, Gilbert began to hum quietly. "S-Show yourself, spirit! Tell us your name!" The German demanded, eyes closed.  
Feliciano's answer came quickly, the disembodied voice sounding confused and insisting that he had already told Gilbert his name.  
"Ja I know, just do it anyway!" Was Gilbert's reply.

_'Feliciano Vargas. I'm Italian~!_' The ghost told him, and Gilbert was sure that he'd heard a giggle afterwards. "...Mr. Vargas, Toni, we are in the presence of an Italian spirit by the name of Feliciano Vargas. And he wishes to speak with..." He looked up, meeting Lovino's eye before nodding in his direction. "You."  
The old Italian glared at him, his frown emphasising the creases in his skin. "I didn't fucking ask for his nationality, this idiot brought me here to speak to my Goddamn Fratello so either let him possess your body or quit yapping and start 'acting as a bridge between the dead and the freaking living' already!"

Antonio smiled at Gilbert. "He's grouchy because it's a Monday." The spaniard explained, turning to smile comfortingly at the elderly Italian.

"Don't fucking smile at me, dumbass!" The man hissed, narrowing his eyes at his nurse before looking back at Gilbert. "If Feli is really here then tell me what he looks like."

Antonio looked at his friend expectantly, while Lovino examined the German with a skeptical expression. Nodding and laughing nervously, Gilbert bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Show yourself to us, Feliciano! Or just me, so that I may prove to this non-believer that you exist by telling him of your appearance!" He called out to the spirit, waiting patiently for a reply. After a few moments of Lovino and his nurse watching him, Gilbert called out again. "...Feliciano, show yourself to me...uh, please..."  
Still receiving no response from the ghost, Gilbert opened his eyes and looked around the room, trying his best to avoid the annoyed look that Lovino had aimed in his direction.

_'Ve~ there's a nice guy upstairs!_' Feliciano told Gilbert, returning to the basement.  
Gilbert jumped, looking around. "That's great, Feliciano Vargas. Great to have you back. Could you show yourself to me now?" Gilbert asked, sighing quietly. After a few moments of silence and Antonio looking to the elderly man in his care with a whisper of 'I told you that he wasn't a fraud', Gilbert noticed the outline of a man appearing behind Lovino. The outline soon began to fill itself in, and only thirty seconds had passed before the grey figure of Feliciano Vargas had appeared. Gilbert stared at it for a moment. "...kind of short...weird curl thing...smile, closed eyes-" he described the apparition in front of him slowly, his hands trembling. "Is that enough?" He asked, casting his gaze away from the humming ghost and at Feliciano's older brother.

"…"  
The Italian began hitting Antonio's head with his cane once more. "You showed him a picture of my fratello before we got here, didn't you, tomato ass-fucker!? If I were any younger, I would head-butt your sorry little stomach!"

Antonio rolled his eyes, disregarding the Italian's comment by smiling at Gilbert. "I guess that's a yes."

A broad grin stretched across Gilbert's features. Jackpot!  
"Oh, Feliciano Vargas, the mighty Italian spirit from the afterlife, what else have you to say to us?"

_'__Can I meet the guy upstairs too?' _Feliciano asked, now kneeling and holding both of his hands up and pressed against each other in a gesture of plea.

"Ja, Ja, but let's finish here first," the albino replied, nodding at the two in front of him.

_'__Va bene!~'_ he replied, floating above the table._'What do they want to know?'_

"Feliciano Vargas demands—"

"Would you stop calling him that!? His name is Feliciano, you fucking piece of jerky potato." Lovino muttered, his skeptical gaze still fixed on Gilbert.

"Uh… Okay…" Gilbert answered, taken aback by the odd cuss. "Feliciano demands to be provided with subjects of which he will discuss!"

"What the fuck?! Feliciano doesn't talk like that!" Lovino protested, pointing at Gilbert using his cane. "Give me my money back!"

Gilbert slapped his forehead. "…He asked you what you want to know …The whole rephrasing thing is just for show," he replied, and Feliciano giggled quietly. _'That's my fratellone~'_

"Well, your 'fratellone' sucks," was Gilbert's quiet reply.

"…Let's just get this over with," the grumpy Italian mumbled, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"Sit up straight, Lovi. You don't want to get a hunched back."

"Pfft, whatever, stupid Spaniard, I'm gonna die soon anyway," the senior replied, receiving a 'don't you dare say that' glare from Antonio, yet did as he was told.  
"…I want to know h-how he's doing."

_'__I'm doing great! I've been haunting houses for a while now, and just waiting around~ sometimes a cat sees me! Kitties are so cute...Ve~'_

And Gilbert repeated his sayings, his eyes closed and his arms held up, raising the others' arms by doing so.

"That's… Good. Uh, has he seen Nonno in a while? Can… Can he tell him I m-miss him…?" Lovino continued, looking aside.

_'__Well, not really. I think nonno got bored and decided to get reincarnated. But I'm still here, having lots of fun, so I think I'm going to stick around for a while!'_

Lovino nodded his head." A-And what about your…" the elderly Italian was about to say, but reconsidered and shook his head. "Never mind. I'm… I'm g-glad you're enjoying yourself. I… I miss you very much, you bastard."

Feliciano giggled, hugging his brother tightly albeit knowing he won't feel anything. _'I miss you too, fratellone…'_

Gilbert sighed, smiling to himself. '_This really is sad_…'  
"He's hugging you right now and he said he misses you too."

Lovino looked down and swallowed, closing his eyes shut. "Let's get outta here, tomato creep."

Antonio cocked his head. "Isn't there anything else—"

"OUT!" he yelled, getting up and walking up the stairs.

"Wouldn't you like to thank the kind medium first, Lovino?"

The other halted,considering Antonio's offer. He turned around, glaring at the medium. "Grazie mille for the pain, fortune freak," he muttered before leaving the basement.

Antonio shook his head. "D-Don't mind him. It's just… He's not used to being emotional."

The sound of something being shattered to pieces was heard from upstairs, and a curse in Italian followed.  
Both of the men rushed upstairs.

"Lovino! Lovino, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Antonio called, stopping the Italian just before his cane hit another vase. He grasped both of the old man's wrists, keeping his hands down and looking into his eyes. "Gilbert was only trying to help you communicate with your brother. There's no need for you to act like that."  
When the other turned his gaze away, Antonio let go of one hand and held the other. "Mucho gracias for the help, Gilbert. Sorry about the vase. We'll send you some money by mail to pay for it," he said, ignoring the Italian's displeased groans.

"Eh, it's fine, we inherited that vase. Let's just hope our dead great-aunt won't come back from the dead and start haunting us because of that," Gilbert said, "But even if she does- the awesome Soothsayer Gil is sure to shoo her away!~"

_'__Ciao, fratellone! Come visit again~' _Feliciano said, embracing his brother anew.

"Feliciano says 'ciao'."

Lovino groaned louder while Antonio bid his goodbye, and the two were soon out of the rundown house.

Re-entering the lobby with a dust-pan and brush, Ludwig frowned at the mess that the smashed vase had caused and knelt down to start clearing it up. "Did they realise that you're a fraud, Gilbert?" He asked, lifting his head to narrow his eyes at his brother.

The older German smirked, shaking his head with pride. "I'm not a fraud, and here's the proof!" He gestured in Feliciano's direction, the ghost looking at Ludwig nervously and waving. _'He can see me too~?!_' He asked, his translucent expression brightening up. However Ludwig looked in the direction that Gilbert was insisting that he look, staring right through the Italian and sighing. "Right. And I suppose there's an invisible ghost there that only you can see." The blond replied, shaking his head and going back to his work.  
Feliciano felt his heart sink a little.

**Well how was it? Be sure to leave a review please it would be great if you could! And for all you Sufin lovers out there, yeah Tino is dead I apologise about that! I love the frick out of Sufin too but somebody had to die so...**

**Stay tuned for chapter two~!**


	2. Chapter 2

While Ludwig had been cleaning and greeting the customers as well as a few basic repairs to the house, Gilbert had spent the time tending to his customer's needs. So perhaps Feliciano had been the only ghost to visit, but Gilbert didn't mind resuming his usual scam for the rest of the day. He had sent Feliciano upstairs with the instruction not to return to the basement while Gilbert was working. As a result, Feliciano had spent the day following Ludwig around, watching as the blond cleaned and eventually working up the courage to float in front of him for a while as Ludwig was sweeping the floor. When the German moved forward and walked right through the Italian, Feliciano couldn't help but give out a giggle as he felt the tingles that spread throughout his body as Ludwig passed through him. Ludwig looked up immediately, narrowing his eyes. "Is somebody there?" he asked, straightening up and looking around. The Italian flinched, looking at Ludwig with an expression of disbelief. '_U-Uh Si...' _ he answered, eyes widening as he awaited the German's response. However Ludwig didn't answer him, looking instead at the door which opened to reveal Gilbert.  
"Just me, West." He chuckled, looking around the room.

The house's resident ghost looked down in disappointment. '_Oh, he didn't see me..' _ he mumbled, too quiet for even Gilbert to hear him. "I'm finished for the day, so if you finish up whatever you're doing here, we can head home." The older of the two brother's informed Ludwig, the blond nodding in reply and starting to put his things away. Gilbert waved at Feliciano and the ghost looked back at him with an upset expression, his eyes wide and pleading as he floated over to Gilbert. '_You're going...? Can't you stay..? It's lonely here, all alone...'_ He asked, unable to keep the dissatisfaction out of his voice. The albino looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he answered. "Ja, it's getting late so I should really go home now..." he stated, starting to feel guilty as he stared back at (and through) Feliciano's face. It was common knowledge that Gilbert Beilschmidt was a big fan of cute things, and the fact that the Italian was adorable wasn't helping the German to say 'no' to him. Heaving a sigh, he gave in. "Fine, we'll stay the night, but just this once ok?"

Feliciano smiled at him, hugging Gilbert tightly. The white haired young man found it unnerving that although he could see and hear the ghost, he couldn't feel him. That being said, the room did seem to get a little colder while he the Italian was snuggling into his chest happily.

Ludwig cleared his throat with a confused frown. "Gilbert, the customers are gone. You don't need to pretend that there are ghosts here." The younger reminded him, one blond eyebrow raised. Gilbert chuckled, draping an arm around his brother's shoulder. "Yeah...about that, Ludwig, meet Feliciano." The older German grinned, pointing at the Italian ghost.

"...Gilbert are you drunk?" Ludwig demanded, still frowning.

"Nein Nein Nein! There's really a ghost here! Uh...hold up some fingers behind your back, I'll cover my eyes and get Feli to tell me how many there are." Gilbert decided, turning around and covering his eyes. Despite Ludwig's reluctance, the blond held up seven fingers behind his back. Feliciano told Gilbert how many there were and Gilbert passed on the information to his brother. They repeated this several times, Ludwig eventually growing frustrated with the fact that his older brother was getting it right each time. The blond soon gave up, sighing and going upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

Gilbert chuckled, looking over at Feliciano. "Well, I'm pretty tired. Guess I'm gonna hit the sack...hey how'd you die, anyway?" the albino asked as he led the way upstairs. However Feliciano seemed to have disappeared, leaving Gilbert to get ready for bed on his own.

In Ludwig's room, the blond had removed his clothes and left them neatly folded on a chair. He stood by the window clad in his boxers and a tank top, looking out of the window, unaware of the Italian hugging him from behind.

Feliciano allowed a few moments to pass before releasing the blond German in front of him, his gaze of the floor as he hovered over the bed with sorrow. He... He looked just like...

Ludwig sighed, turning around and muttering something along the lines of "Why the hell did Gilbert even consider spending the night in such an eerie place" to himself before sitting down and taking his note-taking notebook and a book out of the bag he had brought here with him. He left them on the bedside table, sitting on the bed.  
What the hell was Gilbert thinking?! There aren't even functioning bathrooms here! Lucky for him, Ludwig had taken care of all such business before they left.  
He picked up the book – a book about the supernatural – found himself a satisfying spot on the bed to lie in and began reading with concentration.

Feliciano, who had emitted a few more giggles while Ludwig was moving around the bed, stared at the notebook intensely. An idea suddenly popped into his not-of-materialised-existence mind: he picked the notebook up and left it open beside Ludwig. He then proceeded to search through Ludwig's bag, soon to fish a pen out of it. Feliciano knelt beside the bed, inwardly complaining about his inability to stop floating, and wrote a single word.  
_Ciao!  
_

Ludwig didn't move his eyes from the book.

The ghost looked up in hopes to meet with Ludwig's mesmerising gaze, a gaze which's familiarity annoyed him, but his expression turned determinedly frustrated when he could not get a proper look into the other's eyes. Feliciano held the notebook up, blocking Ludwig from reading the book.

"Gilbert, stop messing..." Ludwig muttered, looking up, but quietened after a quick observation of the room. "W-Who's here...?"

Smiling widely and proudly, Feliciano took the notebook and added another sentence.  
_I'm Feliciano! I'm a ghost, and I'm Italian!  
_

"So... Gilbert wasn't lying, for once...?" Ludwig asked the seemingly void room

_Si. Glad to meet you! Gilbert told me your name is Ludwig. Ciao, Ludwig!  
_

"U-Uh, hallo, I guess," the German replied, frowning at the notebook. "Are you the reason we're staying over?"

Feliciano nodded.

"...Feliciano...? Are you still here...?"

Oh, right. He had to write everything down. Feliciano groaned, renewing scribbling.  
_Si! Don't worry. I'm having lots of fun talking to you; I'm not going to leave! You're a really nice guy. I just forgot you can't hear me for a second. Spaciente...  
_

"You still haven't answered my question."

_Yes... I'm why you're staying the night here. I hope you're not mad...  
_

"I see..." Ludwig said, nodding. "Well, what's done cannot be undone, plus it's already very late and I should go to sleep in order to wake up on time tomorrow. It was nice chatting with you, Feliciano," he replied, putting both the book and notebook aside. 'This is all a dream. You're hallucinating of fatigue, Ludwig,' He kept telling himself, trying to convince himself that this is another one of Gilbert's tricks as he turned to lie on his side.

Wearing a piteous expression, even though Ludwig wasn't able to see it, Feliciano grabbed the notebook and continued to write.  
_Don't leave just yet! I'm really lonely here…  
_

Ludwig opened one of his eyes, reading the sentence and sighing afterwards. "I'm sorry, Feliciano, I really can't stay."

Another sentence soon appeared on the white page.  
_Can I at least snuggle with you…? I haven't hugged anyone in such a long time…  
_

"No," Ludwig determined, seizing the notebook and putting it away. However, a shiver went down his spine when he felt a cold aura surrounding his back. "Are you the reason my back is cold, Feliciano?" the German asked, despite how stupid he felt for speaking to thin air.

The notebook was floating again mere moments later, but Ludwig snatched it from whatever it was that was holding it up. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, the notebook back on the bedside table. "Let go of me, bitte."

Yet his back remained cold.

"Feliciano, I'm asking you to let go."

The ghost didn't comply.

Ludwig sat up, waving his hand behind his back to shoo the coolness away.

Feliciano began giggling loudly, loosening his grip on Ludwig's chest. Once the German was back under the covers, Feliciano sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to fall asleep. When the other's breathing steadied, Feliciano returned to his former posture, his see-through arms back around Ludwig's sturdy chest.  
Too bad ghosts can't fall asleep…

_Ludwig smiled at his Italian boyfriend as Feliciano slept on the couch, a hand on the sleeping male's cheek. Lucky. If Ludwig could pick one word to describe himself, 'Lucky' would be his first choice. Lucky that he had Feliciano in his life. The blond continued to watch the sleeping Italian before getting up from the sofa and tuning into the radio, the majestic voice of Dean Martin filling the room. Ludwig fiddled with the dial, quickly reducing the volume. Nothing could wake Feliciano, but Ludwig didn't want to risk disturbing the man's sleep. _

_"Everybody Loves somebody sometime, everybody falls in love somehow, something in your kiss just told me my sometime is now. Everybody finds somebody someplace, there's no tellin' where love may appear, something in my heart keeps saying my someplace is here~" The blond sang along to the music coming out of the radio as he combed his hair, slicking the hair back with gel to make sure that no strands would hang loose and annoy him. After checking his reflection in the mirror, the blond returned to the seat where his boyfriend was sleeping, stroking the Italian's cheek with his thumb. "...I love you."To Ludwig's surprise and embarrassment, Feliciano's eyes opened and he looked up at the taller man. "...I love you too~" was the brunet's drowsy response. _

_Clearing his throat, Ludwig looked down at him. "...Ja."_

_The Italian giggled at the sight of his flustered boyfriend, letting out a few tired 'Ve's as he watched Ludwig try to initiate a conversation. _

"Am I disturbing something?" Gilbert asked loudly, opening the door to find Ludwig asleep on his back while Feliciano floated above the blond's chest, hugging Ludwig tightly with one arm and stroking his face with his index finger.

Ludwig sat up, passing right through Feliciano and rubbing the goosebumps that had appeared on his arms. As he woke up, he found the dream that he had just had was slipping away from him, fading back into his subconscious. Letting out a frustrated grunt, he pulled the sheets around himself to try and warm himself up. He looked at where the bedside table in his own room usually was, but after staring at the empty space for a few moments, he remembered that he was in the inherited and apparently haunted house. "..what do you want, Gilbert?!" Ludwig demanded, annoyed at being woken so early. Feliciano shuffled to the end of the bed, waving at Gilbert with a sheepish smile.

The albino narrowed his eyes at Ludwig, checking his phone. "It's two AM. Shut up I'm trying to sleep!" He demanded, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"...you're the one who woke me up and came in here! You can't tell me to shut up!" Ludwig argued, frowning.

"Ja, I can. You sing in your fucking sleep, _Dean_." Gilbert stated with a tired frown, turning around to leave. He looked down at his wrist, the sudden cold feeling confusing his sleepy mind. He narrowed his eyes at the almost transparent hands that were clinging onto him. "What do you want, Feli?"

'_Please don't leave.'_

Gilbert groaned, glancing over at where his little brother had already managed to go back to sleep. Sighing and nodding, he crawled into the bed next to Ludwig and made sure not to touch him. Smiling at Gilbert happily, Feliciano climbed into the bed between them, his back pressed against the older brother and his arms and legs wrapped around the younger of the two Germans.

Morning came, and Feliciano watched as Ludwig woke up, looking through Ludwig's bag and fishing out the pen and notepad. 'Bongiorno~!' Was soon written on the sheet of paper, and Ludwig narrowed his eyes at it before muttering a 'guten morgen' in response, more concerned with the reason that his brother was asleep in his bed.

Feliciano giggled to himself while writing the next sentence._  
I love how you sing._

Ludwig stared blankly at the notebook, his cheeks growing rapidly red. His brows furrowed and he started shaking Gilbert in order to wake him up, hoping the older brother would know how to help him stop hallucinating._  
_

_…__Please sing for me._

"Why the hell would I?!" Ludwig replied, his movements growing more violent by the moment.

Feliciano couldn't think of a satisfying reply.

Ludwig almost pushed him out of the bed when Gilbert woke up, sitting up immediately and struggling against the German's hold. "Oi! West! Cut it out! I deserve some sleep after your performance last night, don't I?"

The younger German let go, grasping the collar of the other's shirt instead. "My imagination created a ghost that is trying to communicate with me through a notebook. You're sleeping in my bed. Explain."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "As I told you before, there's a ghost, an actual living—well,_dead_ ghost that's been haunting this house for a while. You're not imagining anything. Feliciano is real. Sadly, he's the only ghost I got to meet," he said, turning to look to the floating supernatural being that was sat on the bed beside them. "Do you have any other ghost-y pals, Feli? I'd be glad to meet them!~"

_'__Actually, no… I-I get kinda lonely sometimes, heh… That's why I'm so happy to have you guys here!~'_

"Oh. Verdammt. Anyway, this cute little ghost here is trying to make friends with you, and you keep pushing him away. Who knows? Maybe you'll finally find someone to—"  
A punch to his face shut him up.

"Now you're trying to set me up with the dead, too!? I've already told you, love is just a distraction from the important thing: work," Ludwig said, approving his saying by nodding his head. "Work and looking after the puppies. Ja."

Gilbert began chuckling anew. ''Kesesesesese! You've gotta be kidding me, west! Whatever. 'There's no telling when love may appear', right?"

"Shut up, Gilbert," Ludwig threatened, looking severely provoked. His brother just kept laughing, and Ludwig decided to leave him there to cackle with Feliciano and look for something to have for breakfast.  
He didn't notice the flying notebook following him.

Ludwig looked around the dusty kitchen, frowning as he took in the state of the room. It looked as though no one had cleaned up in here for decades, and the German had to ignore the urge to clean the mess away while he searched the kitchen for food. A few tins, but nothing fresh, and the little food that there was had passed its use by date before Ludwig had even been born. He had read something somewhere about being able to eat tinned food even after it had gone out of date, but did he really want to risk it..? His stomach grumbling as it waited to be fed. He continued to search before sighing, stepping back and looking around. It was then that he noticed the floating notepad. "...I'm going to go to McDonald's. I should be able to buy breakfast there." He announced, sighing. He would have preferred an actual breakfast over a fast food alternative, but there wasn't really much choice. Ludwig attempted to leave the room, feeling a shiver run through his body. "Move aside and let me leave, Feliciano." Ludwig demanded, sighing. He took the notepad and went to leave the kitchen. Feliciano pouted, a useless action since Ludwig couldn't see it. Floating above the German's shoulder, he started to write on the paper.  
'Please don't go yet!'  
Ludwig narrowed his eyes at the paper, pulling his reading glasses out of his pocket and putting them on. "...I'm hungry. Unlike you, I actually need to eat." Ludwig stated, leaving the house. "Tell Gilbert that I'll be back in forty minutes."  
The Italian waited for a few minutes before returning upstairs. 'Gilbert? Ludwig went out to get breakfast, he'll be back in forty minutes...' He explained, sitting on the bed while Gilbert combed his hair. "Alright, I'd better join him, brb, Casper." The albino chuckled. "I don't have anyone booked until twelve, so I'll be back before then, don't worry."

Feliciano's eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. 'Don't go yet! Please...!'

The German looked at him, his stomach growling. "See ya later, Feli. Gilbert the great and awesome soothsayer must fill his stomach now." He announced, going downstairs.

Feliciano waited for a while, amusing himself by playing with the crystal ball that Gilbert had brought with him to the house. If he really focused, he could see his reflection..or at least a shadow where his reflection should be. He got his arm stuck in a dream catcher for fifteen minutes and then played with a newtons cradle until he heard the front door open. Smiling, he returned upstairs to greet Ludwig. 'Ciao!' He giggled, waving. Oh yes. Ludwig couldn't hear him. He looked around for the notepad and pen, but couldn't find it. Instead, he dipped a finger in the ketchup that Ludwig had in the paper McDonald's bag and wrote 'hi' on the wall.

"...WHAT THE HELL?!"

_It's me, F-  
_Feliciano wrote, but ran out of ketchup. He covered his finger with the red material again and finished his sentence:  
_It's me, Feliciano!_

"That looks just like blood! Are you trying to freak me out?!" Ludwig shouted, leaving the paper bag on the table and looking for a dish cloth to wipe the ketchup off of the wall with. When he returned to the kitchen after cleaning the wall, a new message appeared on the malfunctioning refrigerator.

_I missed you!_

"I was away for barely forty minutes…" he reminded the ghost despite still questioning its existence. He took seat in the creaky chair that was positioned by the table, arranging his meal.

_I told you I get lonely sometimes…_ was written on the table in red.

'He's making such a mess…' Ludwig thought, getting up and searching for the ghost's notebook. He found it downstairs and brought it back with him, soon to pass through Feliciano's cold aura. "Here's your notebook, Feliciano." He then continued his search, this time he was looking for a pen, and when he found one, he entrusted it with Feliciano as well. "Please don't use ketchup again, or anything that isn't meant to be used for writing."

_But writing with ketchup is fun!_ Feliciano wrote, following Ludwig back into the kitchen.

"It causes gratuitous mess, and that is to be avoided," he replied, grabbing a wet towel and wiping the refrigerator and table clean. He left it in the sink and washed his hands before sitting back at the table, attending to his food.

Feliciano turned the page and wrote on its top:

_What are you doing this afternoon?_

Ludwig raised an eyebrow, holding his burger with one hand and pointing to his mouth with his finger.

_Why aren't you answering?_  
Feliciano added a small sad smiley at the end of the sentence.

Ludwig took the pen from what appeared to be Feliciano's hand, and wrote_I'm eating _belowFeliciano's sentence.

_You can still talk._

_Talking while eating might result in choking on the food. Would you like that to happen, Feliciano?_

Feliciano let out a voiceless gasp_._  
_Of course not!_

_Good. No talking for a while, then._

_But we can still write to each other! Like love letters~_

Taking another bite of his hamburger, Ludwig continued writing. _  
Don't be silly, Feliciano, these are just sentences._

_Si, but I still get to talk to you. That makes me just as happy._

Ludwig stared at the notebook for a couple of seconds, not noticing the faint red colour his cheeks acquired. He watched as the pen continued to move as if something possessed it, which was partly correct, noticing for the first time how smoothly the pen moves when Feliciano wrote.

The German was suddenly ashamed of his somewhat blockish handwriting.

_I enjoy spending time with you. I know you're nice, no matter how intimidating you're trying to appear._

The German blinked, still blushing in astonishment, but once he got over the odd shock he was in he turned away, focusing on eating.

Ludwig examined the italian's handwriting for a few more moments as he ate, picking up the pen.

'When did you die?' He wrote on the paper, looking down at the notepad while waiting for a response. He saw the pen being lifted into the air and held against the notebook. The German waited for a few moments before sighing. "I apologise. It was rude of me to ask-" he stated, putting the empty burger box onto the table but ceasing his speech when the pen began to move.

'1964' appeared on the paper and Ludwig nodded, taking the pen back and writing 'thank you for telling me.' He paused before adding 'why is it that you can move the pen but I can't feel it when you touch me?' He inquired, a confused eyebrow raised as he sipped from his Mc'coffee. Feliciano looked back at him, looking into Ludwig's eyes and placing a hand on the German's cheek.

"It feels colder," Ludwig stated, putting his cup down and trying to remove what he assumed to be the Italian's hand from his cheek. "But it doesn't feel like someone is touching me. Why? And can you just...go inside of people?" The blond asked curiously, resting his chin on his hands. Feliciano looked at him for a moment before starting to write again.

'There are never any people here, so I've never tried anything like that...I don't know the answer to your question. I can try...?' He offered, moving closer to Ludwig by passing through the table that separated them. The blond frowned at the paper. "That isn't necessary-" he decided, feeling his head become cold, and he stopped speaking. "Get off!" He demanded, shaking his head as the cold feeling spread to the rest of his body. He felt like he was falling, and he could have sworn that he had seen himself from below for a moment, though he soon fell from the chair and felt a jolt as he was brought back to reality. He sat up with a frown. "Never do that again!" Ludwig ordered angrily, eyebrows furrowed as he cast his glare around the room before returning upstairs. Feliciano watched him, looking down and following silently.

The doorbell rang, and Gilbert raced down to the basement while Ludwig went to greet their latest customers, take their money and send them in the direction of the basement before heading outside to the garden, Feliciano in tow.

The German walked around the unkempt garden, the yellow tall blades of grass brushing against his legs. Finding himself a fitting spot, Ludwig sat down, hugging his knees. When he looked aside he noticed a gap in the middle of the grassy area next to him, and a notebook resting at his feet. He sighed. "Feliciano..."

The notebook was opened and the word _ciao_ followed by an exclamation mark of enthusiasm appeared.

Ludwig stared at the gap, assessing in his mind where Feliciano's eyes should be. His gaze was then raised, and Ludwig tried his best to focus on the nothingness that he was staring at, frowning in the process.

"Am I looking into your eyes, Feliciano?"

The Italian stared back, losing all ability to move. All he could do was nod, and even that he could scarcely carry out.

"Feliciano? Are you still here? Did I, uh, scare you away...?" Ludwig asked, sounding unintentionally disappointed. He looked down, his frown, this time, was for a different reason.

Feliciano blinked a few times after Ludwig's gaze detached from his, picking up the notebook and scribbling swiftly. _Si, you were! Your eyes are beautiful, Ludwig! I forgot you can't see me again. Sorry for not writing back..._

"Can you... describe yourself? So that I'll at least be able to imagine how you look?" The German asked, lying down on the soft grass with his hands supporting his head.

The Italian scooted closer to Ludwig, his crossed legs touching the other's side._  
I can try. Right now I'm transparent, but if I remember correctly, I have brown hair and light-brown eyes. I'm thin and slim. I have a little curl that sticks out, and my eyes are always sort of closed.  
...Someone told me I'm beautiful once._

Even though his side grew gradually colder, the German didn't pull away. He raised an eyebrow at the feminine adjective. "And you took it as a compliment?"

_Well, of course! Why wouldn't I?_

"Because that's an adjective mostly used for describing women. You're not a woman, are you?"

_Nope. But that's still a compliment!~_

The German commenced another search for Feliciano's eyes.  
Feliciano stared back, smiling to himself, and Ludwig soon felt the ghostlike iciness of the Italian's hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, trying his hardest to imagine it was a warm, human hand that was caressing his cheek.  
Feliciano picked up the notebook a few minutes later, adding another sentence.

_Would you like to spend the afternoon with me, Luddy?~_

He nudged Ludwig cheek with his pen to make him open his eyes.

The German glanced at the notebook. "Luddy?"

_Yeah! A new nickname for you~  
Do you like it?_

"It sounds rather stupid. But... I don't mind it," he added, smiling at the notebook. "Yes. I'll be happy to spend the afternoon with you."

'Happy...'

**A/N: sorry for the huge wait between chapters, we're both very busy with school and life.**

**please leave a reveiw if you've got time ouo**


	3. Update

No longer a collaboration, so the chapters won't be as long as they have been, but I've had mad artblock and need to knock something creative out without drawing.

I didn't forget the AU or the story, and the plan was for it to be out of the way and complete by the time it reaches eight chapters.

Ill be knocking up a new plan tonight, and start writing the third chapter. Hoping to publish before the end of the week. Even when this was being worked on, I had a lot of trouble writing chapter three (always got distracted by looking up the time it was set in...)

anyway! I'll attempt to make this a little project, and at least get halfway through before looking back to other stories. Since I'm doing this alone now, I may have to go back and rewrite the first two chapters at some point after i finish. We'll see how it goes.

I'm sorry for keeping it on hold.


	4. Chapter 3- filler I am so sorry

**I am so sorry- school is mad and it takes so much longer to plan a new chapter alone than I thought it would.**

**filler chapter of pre-ghost Feliciano and his lover at the time**

**I planned to have this done in 8 chapters, but I've included a filler here of a journal from feliciano's lover before Feli died. This will be referenced later, but I didn't want to cut up another chapter with the writings. I need to focus on the order I want to do this in- but once I sort that I should be on track to write up chapter 3))**

_2nd January 1962._

This is a new journal, so as usual I will write a bit about myself on the first pages.

I am 5'10", my hair is blond and my eyes are a mixture between grey and blue depending on the light. I am 21 years old, I have two sisters and do not know my father. I believe he was a military officer using my mother to pass down his genes. She never really spoke about it and neither did my older sister's. Their father was our mother's husband, but I think that he died or was killed somehow. What I know about this, I know from overheard conversations and I can't be sure about the accuracy in my statements.

I am a writer. Every day I live my life, go to work, take care of my dog. Every Friday I hand in a short piece of writing about life, and every Saturday it appears in the local paper of the area where I now live. I moved here about six months ago, rented a flat with some of the money left to me by my late mother. Writing doesn't pay as well as I had hoped it would, but I plan on working another labour-focused job to pay the rent and buy food. The money I get from writing and any other loose change that I can gather together is being saved. It comes in handy to keep a little bit of my earnings in case I ever need it. I have very little else to do besides working and writing and looking after my pet, so I don't have many opportunities to squander what I have earned.

My column has been featured in the paper for the last three months and two weeks. With enough hard work, I should be able to start writing articles that would appear far more frequently in the paper.

My column varies when it comes to the subject, my boss the editor in chief just told me to write about life, so that's what I'm doing. I have written about being the only boy in a family of girls, the importance of dogs, changes in the weather- whatever small topics I could form into a column worthy of being read. I've been told not to write about world events or topics. That is a job for the reporters.

_16th February 1962_

I have just bought a radio. I know, it is something that I should have purchased as soon as I moved in, and I have recently learned that the music helps me to focus on what I'm writing. I hadn't considered that perhaps music could become an interest of mine, but apparently it's more possible than i had imagined. Have I mentioned that Dean Martin is a God? And as someone who doesn't believe in the existence of such a thing, well...

My job in the newspaper was not paying as well as I had hoped the salary was barely able to keep me in my small flat and, on top of that, the prices of food have gone up recently. I am simply lucky that my landlord is a person kind enough not to rebuke me if my rent is later than it should be. Even so, even the kindliest of people have their limits, and I was fortunate enough to come across a job. It's nothing but manual labour, but that is nothing that I cannot handle. My distinct lack of muscular strength does not prevent me from lifting and moving whatever my boss in the shop requires of me. Working two jobs is far more exhausting than just one, but the man who allows me to work for him is good enough company. I may be let go when his grandsons return and are able to help out again, but until then the job seems steady. Despite having my motor car, i have no opportunity to use it since the village is small and the short walks from place to place are good for my health. As a sickly, thin figure of a man, clearly my health is something I should take more of an effort in. Given the opportunity to live my life again, I would find the time to build up my health and take up sports. Perhaps I would even develop the muscles that many girls in the village and surrounding farms are so very fond of.

_3rd February 1963_

It has almost been a year since i last wrote in here. Since the return of Romulus' grandsons to the shop I have somehow become even more overworked. It's not something I have the right to complain about, as I could very easily have been fired rather than kept on.

Since my last diary entry and a few letters to my sisters the only writing I have been able to do is the kind which resulted in a paycheck. That is to say that the column is the only writing I have participated in. Rent and food prices have gone up once more, but I could never bring myself to blame the landlord for that. Mr. Branginski has two unwed sisters to support, as well as himself and the maintenance of his other properties. Luckily, more hours at the shop means that I have higher wages in order to keep up with such increases in price.

It recently occurred to me that keeping a journal of sorts could be helpful with my writing Career- it's similar enough to a column but i have complete freedom in what goes here. Perhaps when I am a more renowned author I may even publish this.

Note- look into publishing when I have time

I suppose a longer entry is necessary to explain all that has happened recently- As was mentioned before, Romulus' grandsons returned. Lovino helps out in the store, he is the older of the three (I had assumed that there were only two at first, but it seems another is about, though I have yet to meet him).

Feliciano has a job at the radio station- though I've told him that if he were to sell the paintings he creates he could earn a significantly higher living. He is...difficult to deal with, at times. We have very different opinions, and he hangs around the shop for seemingly no reason at all. I decided to ask him recently why he would stand around talking when he could be doing something productive- hoping of course that I didn't offend while I waited for an answer.

"To see you, of course!"

That was his response, his reply was indeed an odd one, and I don't really know what to make of it. Though I've increased in size now. The past year of work really took my writers hand and made it into a working one. Perhaps it's that- hanging around with a bigger guy like me would be helpful for feliciano. He so easily becomes the target of fights- at time I can hardly believe that he's romulus' grandson.

I do notice him looking to my car often, but I've seen How he drives, and i would rather my car doesn't get driven into a tree.

I received a letter about a month ago- my eldest sister has died. I can't say that it didn't sadden me, but I never really was that close to Julchen. Perhaps my being only half a brother to her and Annaliese was not our different fathers' faults, though, but my own. I should have made an effort to keep in touch. Moved by grief, I wrote to Annaliese, but I have yet to gain a response.


End file.
